Forget-Me-Nots
by Shadow Padawan
Summary: What is a growing attraction explodes into action when Scorpius has to go on a dangerous mission with the MLE. SM/LS.


"I still don't understand why you chose to do this as a job," Lysander said, shaking his head as he applied more salve to the irritated, red skin of Scorpius' shoulder. "Being an Auror…for Merlin's sake."

"I'm not an Auror, I'm a consultant to the MLE," Scorpius muttered moodily. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't become a mediwizard as he had once wanted. Although, it probably had something to do with the awful feel of the hospital, the white walls and the smell of medicinal herbs floating in the air and the sour face everyone but the nurses wore, and their smiles always seemed inappropriately grotesque here to Scorpius. So he had obtained a High Degree in Potions and went to work for the ministry, somehow ending up as a consultant. Lysander was the one who got stuck working at St. Mungo's, although he had wanted to be a herbologist. Lysander never said why he'd changed his mind in the last moment, but Scorpius figured it had something to do with his parents and how wacky the entire Scamander family was, including Lorcan. Lysander had always been much more down to earth.

"If it gets you hurt, it's almost the same thing," Lysander said after a pause, moving behind Scorpius where the older boy couldn't see his face. Scorpius sighed and wondered what he could answer to that. Lysander's soft hands on his back, soothing away the itchiness of his irritated skin with cool ointments, made him comfortable and sleepy and unable to process information with any degree of accuracy.

"They're just a few sores, Ly, relax," Scorpius tried to protest, his eyes fixing on the sole spot of bright color in the examination room – a potted plant in the corner by the door. He could hear Lysander huff behind him in a sign of disagreement and smiled whimsically. Lysander hadn't changed since they were at school. He was still as silly and endearingly fussy as he'd always been. Scorpius closed his eyes and let his mind drift slowly as the itchiness and soreness in his shoulders and back faded away. He opened his mouth to ask offhandedly what Lysander thought the jinx may have been – although it was probably a simple stinger, modified to spread – but then decided against it. He didn't want another lecture. Ly was so much more attractive when he wasn't riled up.

"You should take batter care of yourself, be more carefully," Lysander advised once he was done and Scorpius had finished dressing.

"I do take care of myself." Scorpius paused, then smirked. "It's nice to know you care about me so much, though."

Lysander rolled his eyes but did not protest. "Just stay safe. I had enough scares back at school when you played quidditch." It was true that Scorpius had been rather reckless at school and the image of little Lysander with his grey-blue eyes wide and his green-and-silver scarf nearly slipping off as he watched Scorpius being escorted off the pitch to the hospital wing from the sidelines, was one of Scorpius' most prominent school memories. They hadn't been very close at school, not the way Scorpius was with the boys in his own year, but Lysander had always managed to somehow latch on to him and Scorpius found it endearing.

"I'll try," Scorpius half-promised, pushing the door open. "For your sake."

Lysander nodded and blushed just slightly. "Thank you, I'll hold you to it."

* * *

After that, Scorpius did not see Lysander or any other healer for a while, although it was mostly because he hadn't been assigned any field work rather than a conscious effort to stay out of trouble. He actually did see Lysander a few times but outside of the work environment. Usually, they would accidently run into each other. On these occasions, they would exchange opinions on the day or the latest news and go their separate ways. These seemed to be very meaningless encounters but Scorpius had come to enjoy them for they always seemed to make his day a little brighter. So he began to drop hints and find ways to make Lysander appear in places at times when Scorpius could expect to be there himself. It usually worked and Scorpius found great pleasure in the game. He wondered if it was equally thrilling to Lysander for the boy kept showing up at the right moment, despite the fact that he always flushed on these occasions and muttered something about coincidences and feelings.

Finally, Scorpius decided that maybe it was time he saved them both some effort, and asked if Lysander would go for drinks with him the next day. The younger boy agreed rather enthusiastically and Scorpius returned from his lunch break content and re-energized to the great annoyance of his co-workers.

That was also the afternoon he received the owl he'd been expecting for several days but was starting to think might not actually come.

* * *

"Are you busy?" Scorpius asked, poking his head into Lysander's office at the hospital.

Lysander looked up from his papers and gave Scorpius a puzzled look. "Couldn't wait until tomorrow?" he asked teasingly, instantly blushing. He was doing a lot of that around Scorpius, unable to help the hot and tender feeling that spread through his body whenever Malfoy was around. It was a sickness Lysander had suffered from even back in his school days and could not find any cure for.

Scorpius smirked and slipped into the office. He shut the door closed behind him and held out a bouquet of flowers to Lysander. "I…wasn't sure what you liked, so I got a bunch of forget-me-nots because they reminded me of you."

Lysander stood and walked around the desk, taking the flowers and burying his face in them. "You didn't have to…." He trailed off and peeked up at Scorpius with some concern. "What is this about?"

"I…ah…" Scorpius suddenly felt weak and uncomfortable, almost embarrassed. "I wanted to apologize. Yes, that. Because I might have to break my promise to you tonight."

"What promise?" Lysander scrunched up his face, trying to remember. When he came to the conclusion, his entire expression fell blank and slack. "Oh… Why?"

"I have to, it's just work. It's a pretty big field job and these potions could be highly acidic…"

Lysander threw the flowers on the table and folded his arms. "Bastard."

"Don't be like that." Scorpius reached out and brushed a strand of curls from Lysander's forehead. An electric spark fizzed between them and Scorpius could suddenly tell that the other boy was shaking.

"Your job is stupid." Lysander continued to pout but leaned into Scorpius' touch nonetheless, rocking forward slightly on the balls of his feet.

Scorpius gave in to his instinct, the adrenaline he had felt since getting the owl that afternoon clouding his better judgment, and reached out with both hands, cupping Lysander's face and then smoothing his hands down the boy's body. Lysander caught his hands and held them tightly. They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment, the tension building. Scorpius could hear only noise in his ears like a tide or a strong wind. When he breathed out, he snapped.

Scorpius pushed Lysander back against the desk and kissed him. The younger boy reached back to steady himself, grasping the wooden tabletop with both hands. They kissed for several moments, before Scorpius reached out and began to undo the buttons of Lysander's white coat and then his undershirt. Whatever had been building up between them during their short meetings over the last few weeks was now exploding and Scorpius couldn't do anything but obey the tidal wave.

Lysander whimpered as Scorpius relieved him of his coat and shirt and kissed his neck. He helped Scorpius out of his tailcoat and undershirt as well and wrapped his arms tightly around the older boy, running his hands through fine, silky strands of hair, much more delicate, straighter and lighter than his own. He ground his hips forward, finding Scorpius groin and they both gasped.

In his willingness and impatience, Scorpius picked Lysander up and deposited him straight on the desk, then stood between his legs. Parchment, folders, quills and the forget-me-nots all went crashing and fluttering to the floor. While Scorpius was kissing down his torso, Lysander somehow found the sense to pull out his wand, wave it at the door to lock and then toss it aside into the general mess that was now the office floor. His eyes remained almost exclusively focused on Scorpius who was now taking off his trousers and running both hands over his hips.

Lysander was so hard that it was difficult to breathe and his breath hitched every time Scorpius touched him. Lysander threw his head back and moaned as Scorpius extracted his member and began to rub it. When he opened his eyes again, they were both completely naked. Lysander was shaking and he couldn't take his eyes off of Scorpius. Half of his mind was still not processing that this was happening.

Scorpius pressed both hands into the table and leaned forward to capture Lysander's lips with his, possessively nipping and sucking and claiming as his own. He couldn't afford to wait until tomorrow. "I don't want to wait until tomorrow," he murmured against Lysander's ear.

Lysander swallowed. "I really like you, Scorpius." He pushed his hips up and met Scorpius' groin. Their members rubbed together and they gasped in unison. "Merlin!"

"May I take that as a yes?"

Lysander nodded in agreement as he didn't think he could form coherent words at the moment. There was a pause while Scorpius ducked for his wand and muttered a lubrication charm. Lysander wrapped his arms tightly around Scorpius' shoulders, half-sitting up on the hard tabletop, and buried his nose in Scorpius' cheek.

Scorpius entered him and they began to rock and move, finding their own rhythm. Lysander's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might just jump out of his chest and his veins filled with boiling water. He pressed himself further and further toward Scorpius until what seemed like every inch of their naked bodies was touching.

Lysander couldn't know how long it lasted, for how long he was filled with Scorpius and for how long they moved in unison, All he knew was that when Scorpius finally pulled out, he felt empty and alone, enough so that he wanted to cry.

Scorpius' knees were shaking and he could no longer stand. He pulled Lysander into his arms and they went sliding down the side of the desk and onto the floor, wrapped up in each other and sitting among their discarded clothes.

"I still hate your job," Lysander whispered into Scorpius' shoulder.

"I know," the other boy answered, kissing Lysander's temple and running a hand through his thick, blonde curls. "Right now I do too."

* * *

Lysander didn't have evening or night shift that day but he couldn't go home. His skin itched at the thought that Scorpius was somewhere out there with the MLE tracking down some terrorists or something. Lysander wasn't really sure what a terrorist was, except for bad – it's a muggle term – but apparently they existed in the wizarding world too and Scorpius, for some unfathomable reason, had to get himself involved.

As the hours passed with no disturbances, Lysander began to think that perhaps all would be well. He dozed off at his desk, his head leaned back against the wall as he tipped back in his chair just slightly, the tea and parchment stacks forgotten.

Around three in the morning, a nurse knocked and rushed in with the rustle of medical robes to accompany her. Lysander woke with a start, hitting his head on the wall and almost falling out of the chair. He winced and rubbed his temple, but his mind was elsewhere. "What?" he snapped nervously.

"You asked me to tell you if a Scorpius Malfoy was brought in…" she ventured.

Lysander stood, his mind already making up the worst assumptions. His eyes landed on the forget-me-nots that he actually managed to find a vase for. His senses overflowed with the memories of touch and smell and sight from that afternoon and he shivered. "How bad?" he asked, already walking toward the door.

The nurse looked at him for a moment in silence and she seemed very grave to Lysander in that moment. Then she shrugged and said, "A few bad burns and a bad case of high-strung anxiety but nothing a good salve, a couple of potions and bed rest won't fix. Lysander, you're horribly pale, are you alright?"

Lysander blinked, his mind catching up to her words and then his body catching up to his mind. "Yes, thank you, Lils." He smiled crookedly at her, then flung himself out the door and down the hall toward the examination rooms. _Merlin help me_, Lysander thought as he walked, _I'm going to kiss him—I mean, kill him. Argh, fuck, both._


End file.
